Maintaining a Write-to-Live Attitude in the Social Media Era

I feel sorry for my English professor who wanted to put my essay up for an award! The glare I gave him and the lack of response: it was, at its best, very rude.

 

The fact is, I only learned it bothered him because my best friend who was fifteen years older than me got an invite to the professor’s house for dinner. My friend who had a lifetime of experience using and dealing drugs reported that the professor had called his cute, sleeping hound a beast repeatedly throughout the night and talked about how alcohol was his drug of choice while toasting his guest’s sobriety. However, my friend reported, when it came to me, the professor admitted that he just didn’t know what to say.

 

“I think I know what that kid’s problem is,” the professor had conceded.

 

Continue reading “Maintaining a Write-to-Live Attitude in the Social Media Era”

Legal Reality

Humans inhabit the court room

Where right gets discerned from wrong

Investing all their damn money

Into the justice they long.

 

Anger bounces savagely

In tossed and yanked slinky veins

That domino amassment

Of hate in buzzing refrain.

 

Continue reading “Legal Reality”

The Average, One-Lining, Love-Liable Narrator

When I profess to love you forever,

You should know, cause I already told you

That I’m lying—that my love is for never.

 

Now I can see that your attractive look

Diminishes as time passes on, first

Impressions of your beauty, I know I mistook

 

Continue reading “The Average, One-Lining, Love-Liable Narrator”

Leaving My Hometown with Nothing but a Platonic Relationship

My mission has become a haze

In these droning hours—

 

Snaking pavement,

Grass coated medians:

Another couple hundred miles,

Another tank of diesel fuel,

Another nook and cranny town

Left unexplored by my consciousness

As the gas logo sign posts,

Bat me in the eye

Like flies

Pillars and bridges are swooping down

With on and off ramps

Leading to livelihoods

That embrace all the homes

That I defy.

Continue reading “Leaving My Hometown with Nothing but a Platonic Relationship”

Another Anything for a Little Attention Man

It’s true that a plastic rimmed hat

That cost me ten cents at a thrift store

Is sitting on my head;

And it’s true that they gave me

A free plastic trash bag

To covers some  of my

Old five and dime store clothing display;

And it’s true I might have taken the bus;

When it didn’t look like rain this morning;

And it’s true that it would have been

Ten miles home, or four miles to the mall

By the time the skies opened

And dogs and cats nailed down upon my face;

It’s true that already have an interview suit

In another state

That my father wouldn’t send to me

When we fought on the phone earlier today;

And it’s true I have an interview on Friday

And it’s true that I have the money

On my card to pay;

And it’s true that I don’t have enough money

To pay four more months’ rent stay;

Continue reading “Another Anything for a Little Attention Man”

Ode to Self-Discovery

To hell with the insipid emptiness

That keeps good people ineptly drowned!

Gaze into the perplexed distress and bless

The self that is so often shackle bound!

This is my pledge to the introspection

That so often is betrayed or unknown

Or left to rot in the gutter of dread

And then scavenged for the insurrection.

Together we starve and wither alone

Our thirst being a statement left unsaid.

 

There is numbness that grasps the bone

Which is surrounded by layer upon layer

Of prickle that persistently drones

Out experiences that do conjure

Recurrent traumas of spirits within.

Like swollen flesh, nothingness throbs

Throughout enduring routine of day

Expanding its reign under your skin

Until your inner turmoil sobs

Containing misery you cannot delay.

 

Continue reading “Ode to Self-Discovery”

University Town

Having spent last night

In this University town

Tooling around

With well-adjusted kids

Who have nothing

Except time

To charm each other,

I wake late

And am struck

Like a sword in the gut

With thinking about

The stress of the clock

And that ongoing need

For politeness

As I wait

For my host’s

Breakfast to be finished. Continue reading “University Town”

A Vacation Day for a Schizophrenic:

Fifteen years ago, I remember hearing a psychiatrist who had just been away for two weeks say, “There is no such thing as a vacation when you are schizophrenic!” As an unlicensed professional vying to get a staff position on the unit, I had carefully avoided rolling my eyes. I had politely nodded my head as though it had been a thoughtful thing to say.

***

This year’s weekend of April 1st, my wife supports me in insisting that we take a vacation day. She packs up her hybrid SUV with camping materials and when I finish my Friday commute, we hit the interstate headed north. We plan to camp and hike at the Kings Range on the Lost Coast in Humboldt County, but we know even before we sift through the remains of the Bay Area traffic, there’s no way we are going to make it the whole way.

We make it to the city of Ukiah and drive until we find a Safeway. I am about ready to drop as we load our shit into the front of the car and depart to hit the restroom. We pass the panhandlers and the no camping sign and I start to stress about the possibility that the security will force us to move on in the middle of the night.

“Don’t worry about it my boobie,” says my wife.

I look into the eyes of a particular panhandler and hate our privilege. There sure are a significant amount of late night shoppers who are finishing their long weeks. I ponder the meaning of it all over the urinal. After we regroup, we steal into the back of the SUV.

Continue reading “A Vacation Day for a Schizophrenic:”

The Male Heart

In the company of his own fellowship

A coldness impales the male persona

As he stands in a barren winter field

Where the rapidly shifting wind throws his

Chilled stiff body into nothingness.

He stands trying to conceal his shiver.

 

Above the infinite eye of the night

Glares down upon the stupid smallness

Of his existence, reminding him

That millions have died in war, all of whom

Have been embedded into the cold ice

Of this winter night. Masculinity

 

Continue reading “The Male Heart”

A Cowboy Y Whoop

dedicated to the X generation

Can your phone number really resuscitate

His junkyard of childhood squalor?

Clamped to excess his hand pleads for more,

Probes darkness like a Buddha incarnate,

Clutches for survival, squeezes his mate!

And still the sponge holds water, ever more!

As his orange does citrus, opens the sore!

Continue reading “A Cowboy Y Whoop”